


Commander of the Night: Flame of Durin edition

by Morgyn Leri (morgynleri)



Series: Fireside Tales [66]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, GFY, Gen, Orcs of Gundabad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 14:05:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgynleri/pseuds/Morgyn%20Leri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dazbol watched the sun rise in the east, flinching slightly at the brightness of the light, but refusing to return to the dark felt tents that held far fewer of her soldiers then they had before the battle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Commander of the Night: Flame of Durin edition

**Author's Note:**

> Dazbol, after the battle of Pelannor Fields  
> Prompt: Sunrise  
> Alternate Universe: Flame of Durin
> 
> (No, I have no clue what the _hell_ my muses were thinking. And I thought Ms. Creepy - aka Cúnessa - was bad to have in my head.)

Dazbol watched the sun rise in the east, flinching slightly at the brightness of the light, but refusing to return to the dark felt tents that held far fewer of her soldiers then they had before the battle. Before they'd broken the back of the army of cattle and weak men bound to the fool who thought he could rule the world in the place of the hated. Baring her teeth at the bright light, she lowered her head to keep her vulnerable throat protected. Hissing defiance at the mountains that were a smudge across the river, and the one beyond them.

Her mistress had sent her here to fight that one, to slaughter the cattle and the weak men and the great beasts they rode and Dazbol had never seen. One unit, small and hated, while the rest remained in the north, surrounding their mistress with a wall of strength the fool could not break with any army he sent. One trusted unit and a commander the Mistress could trust in Dazbol.

She hears the hesitant step of one of the West-men who they'd fought beside, though sometimes they'd had to defend themselves from the West-men as much as the cattle and weak men. Defend themselves without killing, which made many of Dazbol's soldiers unhappy, for all that they obeyed.

Snarling an insult to the West-man's fear, she turns from the sun, glaring with pale eyes at the golden-haired boy, who looks back with less fear in his eyes than in his smell. Trying to hide it, a strength that makes her moderate her visible disgust.

"Why?"

It is a simple question, and Dazbol lets out a bark of laughter, grinning to show off teeth as sharp as those of the warg she'd lost in the battle.

"The Mistress said to hunt the cattle wherever they gathered, and remind the Fool he does not own the final perfection of the night."

**Author's Note:**

> Dazbol is, I think, some relation to Azog, though not a close one. She is one of Cúnessa's generals, and went south to fight Sauron because Cúnessa has come to see Mirkwood and Erebor and Dale as something of allies. It doesn't mean they like each other, and given a chance, Dazbol would just as soon kill those who she's supposed to call allies just as much as she'd kill orcs who aren't from Gundabad.
> 
> She also has an ego the size of Moria, and has absolutely no qualms about claiming victories are all down to her and her soldiers.
> 
> Note the third... I'm not sure this will actually be part of the actual continuity of the AU, in the end. Dazbol, though, will stick around. Muses don't like being around for just one story.
> 
>  **EDIT:** This version of the story might work with Flame of Durin, but I am re-purposing it wholesale as the beginning of a story for No Shield For My Soul, which is the third connected AU in this set of headcanons.


End file.
